Friday, 13 September 2013

LIDLY TIME

Not only is it now Lidly time, as in 'it's time for Lidly', but it is also 'Time' by Lidly - fun isn't it? Now that we've got that cleared up, I'm very happy to introduce to you - whomever you happen to be - the fantastic beats of Tokyo producer, Lidly. I think I've probably said his names enough times now, so that'll be all for the moment anyway.

First time I stumbled across him was when I wrote about Taiwanese rapper Aristophanes貍貓's stunning track 'The Peach Blossom', which was produced by this Japanese beat-maker. It was clear then that his sampling and beat structures could do more than just compel you to bop your head: they could make you feel stuff as well. FEEL stuff. Imagine that. And that's always a good sign when it comes to someone who's known for making beats for other artists to sing/rap over. His beats, and beats are often just fanciful metronomes, are blankets of sound that can stand firmly on their own two feet. (If that is as many feet as a beat has).

When Aristophanes shared my article on her FB page, someone commented on it and said that they "hated" the Lidly beat: "makes my teeth hurt," they said. Well. Their teeth must be super sensitive to GREAT BEATS. That or they have utterly no taste.

Anyway, recently (like a few days ago) Lidlyさん released an album/mixtape called The Shabby Neophilia. There are so many great sounds on there, trippy multi-faceted sample-heavy hip hop that glows with attitude. But one really stood out to me and blew me away so I'm gonna write about this one. It's called 'Time' as you probably have guessed already and it sounds like dis...

Sullen organ sounds noodle with incomprehensible everyday-life kinda samples and crashing lazy cymbals before the song busts out. To a stumbling buzz of a bassline a hip hop beat drags itself through the song, ripping tearing along like someone with velcro socks staggering along a path of more velcro. Inescapable harsh claps and fizzy hi-hats.

The star here is, however, the intense scale and emotion of the synth chords. They hit you like a classical piece would, so expert is their progression within the song, except there's more depth here than a regular, non-electronic instrument could give you; the chords are broken, torn, distorted and, at the end, begin switching between left and right, chasing each other down, before fading with an echo. They give, moreover, a maudlin kind of sound: it has a feeling-sorry-for-myself vibe but there's a twist of glory and triumph that perfectly suits the majestic-yet-debilitating mystery of Time.